Claudia Alexander studies the planets and flies spacecraft by day. By night she re-imagines the universe. She has written a number of steampunk short stories, children’s science-learning books, and a full-length elf-punk novel. Deuberry’s and Perdita’s adventures in New Orleans during their seventeen year absence from Port au Prince will be explored in future short stories. Coming soon: Yellowman, and the Vinegar Jive; in which Deuberry defies Polixenes, travels deep into steampunk Louisiana, and comes face to face with a Native American magic.

Claudia Alexander is also an avid tennis fan and has written for the Bleacher Report as claudiacelestialgirl. Steampunk Phoenix is an imprint of Red Phoenix Books, her publishing arm, established inClaudia Alexander studies the planets and flies spacecraft by day. By night she re-imagines the universe. She has written a number of steampunk short stories, children’s science-learning books, and a full-length elf-punk novel. Deuberry’s and Perdita’s adventures in New Orleans during their seventeen year absence from Port au Prince will be explored in future short stories. Coming soon: Yellowman, and the Vinegar Jive; in which Deuberry defies Polixenes, travels deep into steampunk Louisiana, and comes face to face with a Native American magic.

Claudia Alexander is also an avid tennis fan and has written for the Bleacher Report as claudiacelestialgirl. Steampunk Phoenix is an imprint of Red Phoenix Books, her publishing arm, established in 2002....more

One of my favorite books from when I was a kid. I'm over 50 years old, and still remember this plot, and the effect the story had on me. I'm giving it to my niece tomorrow, and we'll see how she reacts to it! Highly recommended. Spooky without beingOne of my favorite books from when I was a kid. I'm over 50 years old, and still remember this plot, and the effect the story had on me. I'm giving it to my niece tomorrow, and we'll see how she reacts to it! Highly recommended. Spooky without being gory....more

Preview — Dreamfever by Karen Marie Moning

“His hand was on my throat, and he was crushing me back with his body into the cold steel beam behind me. "Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it‘s none of your business, I have lost. Many things. And no, I am not like any other player in this game and I will never be like V‘lane, and I get a hard-on a great deal more often than occasionally." He leaned fully against me and I gasped.

"Sometimes it‘s over a spoiled little girl, not a woman at all. And yes, I trashed the bookstore when I couldn‘t find you. You‘ll have to choose a new bedroom, too. And I‘m sorry your pretty little world got all screwed up, but everybody‘s does, and you go on. It‘s how you go on that defines you." His hand relaxed on my throat. "And I am going to tattoo you, Ms. Lane, however and wherever I please.”Karen Marie Moning

Preview — Bloodfever by Karen Marie Moning

“But if she'd come then, she would never have properly appreciated it. She'd have seen the happy crowds and the Union Jacks and the bonfires, but she'd have no idea of what it meant to see the lights on after years of navigating in the dark, what it meant to look up at an approaching plane without fear, to hear church bells after years of air-raid sirens. She'd have had no idea of the years of rationing and shabby clothes and fear which lay behind the smiles and the cheering, no idea of what it had cost to bring this day to pass--the lives of all those soldiers and sailors and airmen and civilians.”
―
Connie Willis,
All Clear

“She had been wrong in thinking Christ had been called up against his will to fight in a war. He didn't look - in spite of the crown of thorns - like someone making a sacrifice. Or even like someone determined to "do his bit". He looked instead like Marjorie had looked telling Polly she'd joined the Nursing Service, like Mr Humphreys had looked filling buckets with water and sand to save Saint Paul's, like Miss Laburnum had looked that day she came to Townsend Brothers with the coats. He looked like Captain Faulknor must have looked, lashing the ships together. Like Ernest Shackleton, setting out in that tiny boat across icy seas. Like Colin helping Mr Dunworthy across the wreckage.

He looked ... contented. As if he was where he wanted to be, doing what he wanted to do.

Like Eileen had looked, telling Polly she'd decided to stay. Like Mike must have looked in Kent, composing engagement announcements and letters to the editor. Like I must have looked there in the rubble with Sir Godfrey, my hand pressed against his heart. Exalted. Happy.

To do something for someone or something you loved - England or Shakespeare or a dog or the Hodbins or history - wasn't a sacrifice at all. Even if it cost you your freedom, your life, your youth.”
―
Connie Willis,
All Clear

“His hand was on my throat, and he was crushing me back with his body into the cold steel beam behind me. "Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it‘s none of your business, I have lost. Many things. And no, I am not like any other player in this game and I will never be like V‘lane, and I get a hard-on a great deal more often than occasionally." He leaned fully against me and I gasped.

"Sometimes it‘s over a spoiled little girl, not a woman at all. And yes, I trashed the bookstore when I couldn‘t find you. You‘ll have to choose a new bedroom, too. And I‘m sorry your pretty little world got all screwed up, but everybody‘s does, and you go on. It‘s how you go on that defines you." His hand relaxed on my throat. "And I am going to tattoo you, Ms. Lane, however and wherever I please.”
―
Karen Marie Moning,
Bloodfever

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